Security in Quito

By Bradley Rehak - Guest Blogger studying in Ecuador

The previous entry may have given the impression that Quito is an extremely dangerous place to be, that the rest of South America is likely the same, and that it's best just to remain at home in one's own country. It probably doesn't help for me to say that two other girls in my school had money and belongings stolen from their bags on a bus on Sunday. But in all honesty it really isn't so dangerous if one uses a bit of common sense: walking only in groups at night (which those climbing the volcano failed to do), staying in populated areas, and keeping one's bags under foot, on lap, and in hands.

However, there is another reason to feel safe here: the prevalence of private security (which I will describe for all our pleasures). Private security guards are pretty much ubiquitous in middle and upper class neighborhoods, as well as similar commercial areas. They spend their days and nights standing in tiny little huts that are just large enough to hold them and just strong enough to keep out the wind and rain. These huts can be found: next to bookstores, swimwear stores, on random corners, in front of houses, and on the roofs of condos. There really isn't a place where it would be surprising to find one (maybe the poorest neighborhoods).

Most of a guard's time is spent, as previously mentioned, standing directly in front of their hut (on the sidewalk, on the roof, etc.). Depending on the guard they also sit in the hut a lot, usually listening to the radio and looking at pictures of girls in bikinis which they have posted to the inside of their hut. Strangely enough, even though I have to gawk every time I walk by, I've never caught the guard at the swimwear store staring at the life-sized pictures of girls in swimsuits, which are directly behind his hut.

The other primary activity of the guards is whistling. Not at women passing by, but at each other, with whistles, during the night. They do this in order to ensure that the others are still alive (the notion of radios being quite below them), and so therefore blast away at their whistles at all hours of the night at a given interval of about at hour. Don't get me wrong; when I walk home after dark from the internet café, I'm quite ecstatic to pass thirty guard shacks. However, the guard shack for the condo I live in is on the roof, level with my room, about 15 feet outside my windows. And if there is possibly anything that I value more than my life and my money, it's my sleep.